


Stitches and seams

by zinabug



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Sharing Clothes, So. This happened., basically: my brain wanted to know what Lovelace would do since she didn’t have any of her shit, with a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25759264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinabug/pseuds/zinabug
Summary: Lovelace finds herself Back on the Hephaestus without any of her old belongings, and Eiffel offers some of his.Title is from stitches and seams by the accidentals.
Relationships: Doug Eiffel & Isabel Lovelace
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	Stitches and seams

Lovelace wandered around her new quarters, investigating. It had obviously been cleared out in a hurry, messily folded blankets tossed onto the bed and dresser drawers left open. There was still one more box of clothes left. She opened it and pulled out a lab coat, much too small, with the name Hilbert on a patch. She dropped it back in the box, disgusted, and continued looking around. 

The door opened, and she whipped around, hand going to where her gun should be. 

“Oh— sorry!” Eiffel, standing in the doorway, put his hands up. “I was just coming to get this last box of Hilbert’s stuff. We should’ve cleaned this room out ages ago, sorry.”

Lovelace took a deep breath and put on a smile. “It’s alright. Mind if I come with you?”

“What, to storage room eight?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

Eiffel shrugged. “Sure. I’m not going to be very interesting though.” 

“That’s fine.” 

Eiffel picked up the box, and she followed him out of the room. It was colder out of the bedroom, and her badly tattered flight suit wasn’t doing anything to keep out the chill. She wrapped her arms across her chest and sighed. 

Eiffel kept glancing at her, sometimes opening his mouth like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. She wished he’d just say it, and get it over with. It’d make her life  _ that much  _ easier. 

He opened the storage room door and tossed in the box haphazardly, then dusted off his hands and sighed. “There’s the last of that, thank god. I feel like I have to wash my hands now, touching his things.” His hand brushed across his chest, pausing and grabbing her fabric of his shirt, and he scowled. 

_ Lovelace remembered Lambert’s hands, shaking on his chest as he struggled to steady his breathing.  _

She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t quite know how. She settled for gently patting his shoulder, incredibly awkwardly. He smiled at her. 

“Are you cold?” He asked. “I— er— well, your uniform is pretty ruined— and it’s freezing in here…”

“Yes, I am.” Lovelace smiled back. “I don’t exactly have any of my old things though, and Minkowski’s are too small— if she’d lend them to me, which I doubt.” 

“You can borrow my things?” Eiffel asked, awkwardly. “I have some spares.” 

Lovelace shrugged. “Sure. Why not.” 

“Right. If you don’t mind coming with me to my quarters, I can get you a jacket and some shirts and things.” 

Lovelace smoothed down her bloody, tattered flight suit. “That would be wonderful.”   


* * *

  
“Here.” Eiffel tossed her a jacket identical to the one he was wearing. His room was a mess, with his thing scattered everywhere. He’d made an attempt to shove some of them under his bed, but it hadn’t done anything for the general state of the room. 

She held up the jacket. It had Eiffel’s name on it, and a Goddard Futuristics patch. She poked it and scowled. “I’m going to need to do something about that.” 

“What, my name tag?” Eiffel asked. 

“And the Goddard Futuristics patch. Do you have scissors?” 

“Yep.” Eiffel handed Lovelace a pair of scissors from under his bed and she started trying to cut them off without ripping the fabric. 

“Lovelace?” 

“Yep?”

“Um… so I may have… decorated some of my shirts. Just a little. is that going to be a problem?”

Lovelace smiled. “Oh? Let me see.” 

Eiffel held up a shirt that said “ **~~#1~~ ** **COMMUNICATIONS OFFICER** ” written in marker. 

“Minkowski crossed out the number one part.” Eiffel said, slightly sadly. 

Lovelace burst out laughing.   
  


* * *

“So… are all of your shirts like that?” Lovelace asked. 

“Pretty much.” Eiffel sighed. “I have some I brought from home, but… I don’t think you’d like those either.” 

“Try me.” 

Eiffel shrugged, reached under the bed, and pulled out an awful button up shirt decorated with brightly colored flowers. 

“Oh, it’s perfect.” Lovelace took it from him and held it up against her chest. “What do you think?”

“Horrible.” Eiffel squinted. “But that’s the point. You can have it.” 

“Great.” Lovelace grinned. “Do you have any clean flight suits? I can just take a couple of those and I’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah, I have way too many. There’s just a whole crate of them.” 

Eiffel collected a few clean flight suits, found a couple shirts he hadn’t drawn on yet, and gave them to Lovelace.

“Eiffel, do you have a marker I can use?” 

Lovelace had finished taking Eiffel’s name tags and the Goddard Futuristics patches off the clothes he’d given her, and she needed something to fill the space. 

“Yeah, a few.” Eiffel pulled a sharpie out of his bedside table drawer. “Why?” 

Lovelace took the marker out of his hand without an explanation and started carefully writing her name over the patch where Eiffel’s used to be. Her hand shook slightly, leaving her careful cursive much messier then she would have liked it, but it was finally something that was  _ hers.  _

__


End file.
